


Girls' Night In

by Lempo Soi (Lemposoi)



Category: due South
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Female Character of Color, Closeted Character, Community: kink_bingo, F/F, Female Character of Color, POV Character of Color, POV Female Character, POV Third Person, Past Tense, Police, Sex Toys, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-11
Updated: 2011-05-11
Packaged: 2017-10-19 14:08:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemposoi/pseuds/Lempo%20Soi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Contains: Closets, sex at the workplace, heteronormativity, discussion of racism, sexism and homonegativity in the police force.</p><p>As usual, I had no beta, so C&C, including nitpicking, would be welcome and appreciated.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Girls' Night In

**Author's Note:**

> Contains: Closets, sex at the workplace, heteronormativity, discussion of racism, sexism and homonegativity in the police force.
> 
> As usual, I had no beta, so C&C, including nitpicking, would be welcome and appreciated.

"I know," Francesca said, sitting up at her desk, back suddenly ramrod straight. "We should have a girls' night out!"

"Oh god," Elaine moaned. "You're kidding, right?"

They were at the precinct, Elaine slumped over her desk, Frannie sitting by hers with her trousered legs crossed daintily like an actress's in a French New Wave film. It was already getting dark, but the precinct was never quiet.

"I'm not kidding, why would I kid? It would be great. We could hit all the clubs, dressed to the nines. Two hot chicks like us? Guys would be drooling all over us."

"Yeah, and what kind of guys, the sad old drunks that go clubs on Wednesdays?" Elaine retorted. "That doesn't exactly describe my ideal night. Besides, hungover police officers? Walsh would love that."

"Well, we ought to do something," Frannie said. "I've been crying myself to sleep over Fraser for months, I'm not ashamed to say it, but enough's enough."

Elaine raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, don't be a hypocrite, 'Laine. I know you liked him too. Only reason I never thought of us as rivals was that deep down I knew none of had a snowball's chance in hell, there." She sighed, resting her chin on a perfectly manicured hand. "Why are all the great guys gay?"

Sometimes listening to Frannie was functionally equivalent to reading a women's magazine – you just turned off your brain and tried to ignore all the cosmetics. "All right. Let's do something. Why not? But no clubs."

Frannie perked up. "A girls' night _in_!"

Elaine opened her mouth to protest, but then reconsidered. _Turn off your brain_. "Well, that's better," she conceded.

"Oh my god, it'll be great! We'll watch a movie and paint our toenails and talk about men."

Elaine was starting to have second thoughts. "Frannie..."

"I know, you don't paint your nails," Frannie said, "though I think a little festive maroon... but we can talk about that later." She reached over and turned Elaine's face into the light. "'Laine, sweetie, god knows you don't need it, but I'd love to see what I could do with your face."

"No makeovers," Elaine said firmly. "We'll watch a film, have some take-out, drink a glass of wine--"

"And talk about men."

"Probably." Elaine allowed herself a sad little grin. "Chinese or Italian?"

*

They went with Thai. Frannie said she got enough Italian at her mother's house, and the good Chinese place was closed for redecorating.

In the year since Fraser, Frannie's brother and Ray Kowalski had been gone, one of the many things that had changed was that Frannie had finally moved out on her own. She had a small apartment near the police station, and it was all over Frannie – shiny magenta curtains, walls painted a delicate pink, black silk bedsheets, swirly decorative patterns on the shelves and mirror frames, and everywhere a sense of carefully manufactured femininity.

"Look, what's wrong with _An Officer and a Gentleman_? It's a classic."

"Well, what's wrong with _The Crying Game_?"

"Isn't it, like, an art film?"

Elaine really hadn't expected that to be Frannie's objection. "I don't know, is it?"

"Look, I'm hungry," Frannie said and threw the VHS down on the coffee table. "Let's just eat. I'll put some music on." She hopped over to the CD player.

Elaine was prepared to suffer through whatever Frannie chose to put on, since the two of them apparently had opposite tastes about everything except Fraser, and was surprised to hear the sweet tones of Nat King Cole.

"I love this," Frannie said and swayed her way back to the sofa.

Elaine watched her, fascinated. Frannie was a piece of work. You thought you knew exactly what she was going to do next, and you were almost always wrong.

*

"You know they say men grow better with age?" Frannie gestured with her chopsticks, miming a step-by-step progression. "All I know about that is that they stop growing better at 40." The chopsticks made a downwards swoop. "Does that make me shallow?"

"Kinda does," Elaine said, amused. She was already on her second glass of red wine, despite the fact it didn't go very well with her pad thai.

"It's not like I wouldn't love my man after he hit 40, it's just that things will be going a little downhill after that, you know what I'm saying? They say the same thing about us, so it's only fair."

"I guess it is." Elaine settled back with a sigh. "I'll be facing the big 3-0 next year, you know."

"I'll be 32 soon," Francesca said sadly.

"You're kidding me." Elaine studied Francesca's face in the half-light of the apartment, the stubbornly youthful glow of her skin, her flawlessly narrow limbs and waist. "I guess I don't have anything to worry about, then."

"Aw." Frannie grinned. "Thank you! Of course, if anyone asks, I'm planning on being 28 for quite a few years more."

*

"It just gets so frustrating." Elaine knew she was a bit sloshed, but it didn't explain why her eyes were threatening to brim over with tears. Her head was pillowed on Frannie's knees. "I try and I try and I know I'm good, and I even push the line when I feel it's the right thing to do, but it's like there's always a hand pushing back. The reason they give most often is 'you're still a rookie', but I look around and I see others younger than me or fresher from the academy get handed the big cases. They just don't want to say 'you can't handle a murder case because you're a woman' or 'we don't want to send you to interview decent middle-class white families because you're black', but what the hell else could it be?"

Frannie petted Elaine's forehead gently, pushing her tresses back. "Poor thing," she said. Her fingers were warm, and her thighs were soft. Elaine felt a soft splash of desire for Frannie, and buried it in sudden panic.

Women. The thing about women.

Elaine loved men and even if she hadn't, she had trouble enough being a black female police officer and she really didn't need to be a lesbian one, too. Women hadn't bothered her much for years, but now there it was again, that consciousness of another woman's body, popping up without warning and changing everything.

Elaine sat up and hugged herself. "God, I need a man."

"Amen." Frannie reached for her glass on the coffee table, downed what wine was left in it, and refilled both their glasses. She handed Elaine's to her. "Until then, here's to our vibrating best friends." She winked, lifted her glass and drank.

Oh great, now Elaine was thinking about vibrators. "Friends?" she asked. She couldn't help herself. "Plural?"

"Absolutely." Frannie gave her a curious look. She was looking a bit sloshed too, now that Elaine went to the trouble to look for the signs. "What, you've just got one?"

"Er." Elaine wasn't prepared for this, wine or no wine. "I had one once, but it didn't vibrate. A leftover joke from a bachelorette party... It was bright pink."

"You poor, deprived thing." Frannie giggled. "Want to see my collection?"

*

"Okay," Elaine said, staring, and lifted up a string of large beads. "What the hell is this for?"

Frannie had barely stopped giggling after she'd emptied one of her drawers on the black silk sheets. "You _are_ new to this, aren't you?"

"I don't go through sex shop catalogs regularly, no," Elaine said, impatient. In fact, she'd stayed away from porn altogether, save for a stack of tattered romance novels she kept hidden under her bed. It wasn't that she thought anybody was going to punish her for them – she was just embarrassed. "Explain this, at least." She picked up a vaguely egg-shaped object with a string with a switch on it coming out of one end.

Frannie took it from he and flipped the switch at the bottom. The egg began to vibrate. "Get it?"

"Not really," Elaine said.

"I'm really going to have to explain this to you, don't I?" Frannie asked, grinning.

"Well, not if you don't want to." Elaine reached to take the egg back, to throw all those things back in the drawer, but Frannie snatched it back.

Frannie lowered her voice. "The thing is, I love cocks, but the fact is that beyond the first couple of inches, your pussy doesn't really feel a thing. No what do you call 'em, sensory receptors."

Elaine wished she hadn't said any of those words. Frannie's lips were full and wet, and her lipstick had lost its perfection. Even her hair was starting to fall out of place. It was turning Elaine on like hell.

Frannie lay her hand between her own legs, painted fingernails splayed over the crotch of her trousers. "So all you really need to do is place this egg just inside you and switch it on. Let it purr. It's divine, 'Lainie. Here." She handed the egg over. "Try it."

"What?" Elaine stared, terrified. "Now?"

Frannie nodded. Her lips were parted in a slight smile, her gaze soft and warm. Did she mean--? No, she couldn't mean--

"It's just us girls, right?" Frannie said. "Who's going to be able to show you any better than me? Oh, I almost forgot." She picked up a packet of condoms from among the items spread out over the bed, ripped one open and rolled it over the egg. "It's more hygienic this way." She placed the covered toy in Elaine's hand.

"I can't," Elaine said weakly. The rubber felt oily in her hand.

Frannie leaned over, her face now mere inches from Elaine's. Her breath smelled like wine. "You wouldn't make me waste a rubber, would you?" she said in a low voice. "Lie back, Elaine."

Elaine did. So help her, she did, settling down among a number purple and pink and rubbery things.

Her mind whirled with questions as Frannie undid her belt and tugged her trousers down. Was Frannie just being helpful? Did other girls do this all the time? Did this count as sex? Oh god, was she about to have lesbian sex? But if this counted than so had Jodie, Rita, Caroline and June. Had she actually slept with more women then men? Wasn't Frannie desperately, notoriously straight?

She turned her head and bit own hand as Frannie's fingers crooked under her underpants.

Frannie made an appreciative sound. "My, you're a bit of a hypocrite, aren't you?" She pulled Elaine's panties down all the way to her ankles and spread her knees. "Look at you."

Elaine stole a glance at Frannie, her face burning hot. Frannie was looking straight between her legs, her pale face flushed even pinker, and a curl escaping down her face. Right at that moment Elaine couldn't remember what she'd ever found so preferable in men. Her breath was coming heavy and fast. "Frannie," she breathed.

Frannie glanced up at her with a sly grin, then took the egg and touched Elaine's clit with its tip.

If Elaine had had any chance of playing it cool, it shattered and blew away in the wind. Her body convulsed under the touch, her gasp turning into a moan of Frannie's name. She looked at Frannie through hazy, panicked eyes, and saw her lips parted, her eyes heavy, an expression of desire so palpable she couldn't possibly be mistaken, could she? _Could_ she?

Frannie pressed the egg inside her, popping it in easily and slickly. Then she flicked the switch, and pulled Elaine's panties back up.

Frannie lay her palm, still, over the thin cotton, and over Elaine's mound.

Elaine opened, she fell. The vibration was relentlessly steady. Frannie pressed down with her middle finger, sinking into Elaine's cleft, pressing against her clit again under the soft electric motion.

It was over in less than a minute. The shock of orgasm shook Elaine's legs. She wrapped the pillow around her head, instinctively hiding her face even as she convulsed. Frannie immediately switched the egg off.

"'Lainie, 'Lainie," she moaned. "God, you're so gorgeous."

Elaine could do little more than gasp in response.

"It's a little oversensitive right after, isn't it? Let mama kiss it better." She pulled Elaine's panties off all the way, along with her trousers, slipped out the egg and leaned down between Elaine's legs, pressing her soft mouth against her spread pussy. Elaine felt her tongue softy lapping at her cleft, before probing, just as softly, higher up, finding her pearl, softly, so softly, and Elaine felt like she would lose her mind.

She grabbed the pillow hard. "Frannie." That broken gasp was the best she could do.

*

"You stealthy bitch," Elaine said some time later, when they were lying wrapped up in each other, Elaine naked from the waist down, Frannie tousled and undone but still mostly clothed.

"Mmm." Frannie released Elaine's wet fingers, which she'd been cleaning with her tongue. "You gotta be careful, 'Lainie, unless you want to be out, and I'm not ready to be out." She kissed Elaine's cheek, a gentle peck. "Until I saw just how wet you were, I couldn't be sure you weren't just straight."

"Usually you're supposed to find out before it gets to that stage!" She wasn't upset, though. Her body felt way too good right then. Instead she found laughter bubbling out. "I wasn't sure myself until you called me gorgeous. Oh, Frannie." She tugged at Frannie's shirt. "Let me touch you again."

"Yes, ma'am!"

*

"Psst. Hey, 'Lainie."

Elaine looked up from a stack of papers. Frannie was grinning down at her, looking golden and edible in her smart blue uniform and carefully coiffed hair. These days, Elaine could hardly believe she'd ever been able to look at Frannie and not be turned on by a thousand little details of her. "Come on, I want to show you something."

"Here?" Elaine asked in a low voice.

"Come on." She nodded towards the infamous filing closet.

"We can't, not at work," Elaine whispered when the door closed behind them. That light had been fixed again and the closet was flooded with it.

"Don't you want to see?" Frannie held up something small on her palm.

It was a switch. There was a cord running from it and inside Frannie's trousers.

"Want to press my button?" she whispered.

"Holy shit, Frannie." Elaine ran her thumb over the switch, but didn't press it. "We can't."

"Please," Frannie said, hooking an ankle around Elaine's calf and pulling her close, kissing her neck.

"Oh my god," Elaine breathed. She felt the pinch of desire in her parts, sharp and demanding and sweet. Frannie's hands were lost in her hair, and she was kissing her mouth, sweet tongue soft against hers.

Elaine pressed the switch.

Frannie, melted into sighs against her, her fingers grasping at her back.

*

They left the egg where it was for the rest of the day.

It was hard not to hold her hand on the way out of the station, but they shared a smile that spoke volumes, and, wordlessly, headed back to the flat.


End file.
